


Up, Close, & Personal

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Office AU, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: Blake accidentally texts a picture of herself to the wrong person.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Blake is trans in this (she/her). Points if you figure out what Tumblr text post this fic idea came from.

For the third time that morning, Blake contemplated whether or not she could get away with wearing sunglasses into work.

A headache throbbed right behind both temples, pain spiking whenever a sliver of light glinted off the subway windows and slipped past dark lenses, and even downing two bottles of water with a patented hangover-curing breakfast hadn’t done much but cure some of her nausea. When a static-laced voice from above announced that her stop was coming next, Blake grabbed for the worn strap overhead to pull herself to her feet and push past the crowd as soon as the doors slid open.

Thankfully, it was only a block to the office, and Blake squished herself against the outside of the building in order to stay in the line of shade along the sidewalk. Fumbling for her work ID, she nudged the door open and walked inside, only to come face-to-face with the head of security.

“Long night, Blake?” Ironwood asked, holding out his hand so he could take her pass and scan it. “You’ll have to take those off before you go upstairs.”

“Right.” Blake forced a smile, putting her ID back into her purse.

“Sorry about that.” His own smile was a bit more sympathetic. “I used to put it away when I was your age too, but the boss upstairs doesn’t like obscured faces. It makes work a lot harder for the security cameras.”

Swallowing a wince, Blake took off her sunglasses, squinting as her eyes tried to adjust to the light and squeeze shut all at the same time. “Got it.”

A heavy synthetic hand tapped against her shoulder when she walked past. “You’ll feel better by the end of the day, kid. Don’t worry.”

She wasn’t quite sure about that, but Blake followed the carpet to the main elevator and punched the button for the top floor. The hum of the car going up made her ears twitch, and jamming in a pair of headphones wasn’t an option when she was about to walk into work, so Blake tapped her foot impatiently before the doors opened again.

As usual, the office was in a frenzy, trying to put together the latest issue of the magazine. She shuffled past three different versions of the new month’s cover, each one with a group of people arguing in front of it, and managed to get behind her own desk before the noise turned her hangover into a heart attack.

After dimming the brightness on all her monitors, Blake logged in and started scanning the logs, making sure there hadn’t been any issues flagged overnight. Working cybersecurity for the Schnee conglomerate was the last thing she’d expected to do as a career, but college loans were expensive, especially when everything for her degree had been out of state. Her parents had insisted she could stay home and study on the island, but the opportunities were limited there, and Blake knew she wouldn’t have half as many friends if she hadn’t left.

Besides, Weiss was a lot nicer than all the rival magazines advertised, even if she dressed with a take-no-prisoners look every day of the week.

A beep from Blake’s phone snapped her attention away from the endless logs, and she quickly reached to flip the ringer off, not wanting to get caught messing around right on the start of her shift. Holding the screen under the edge of her desk, Blake frowned at the message from Velvet displayed at the top: _Sooooo, you left me hanging last night._

She unlocked the screen to answer, trying to figure out what Velvet meant by scrolling back through the old texts. A blush spread across Blake’s face at the realization that she had drunkenly texted her best friend about the lingerie she had bought at a trans-friendly shop both of them had been desperate to try out, including a promise for pictures. Pictures she had apparently taken.

“Wait a…” Blake swiped over to the photo album and felt the blush taper all the way up to her hairline, burning across the back of her neck.

While the first few pictures were fairly tame, showing a full-length view of the black lacy lingerie in the mirror, the ones that followed escalated with every shot. At some point she had made it onto the bed, taking a few blurred photos of dark stockings and the garter belt attached before turning the camera’s attention to her chest, one of the straps of the bra tugged down her shoulder. Quietly, Blake had to admit that the padding there did wonders for her cleavage, but the thrill of knowing the lingerie looked amazing was coupled with the embarrassment that she had apparently taken an entire series of pictures with the underwear completely gone.

“No more flavored vodka ever again.” She muttered under her breath, changing tabs back to Velvet’s text and replying: _Sorry, I got totally wasted. No go on the pictures._

Three grey dots popped up at the bottom of the screen before Velvet texted back: _You sure about that? Because you called me to make sure I saw them. I didn’t get anything, though._

Dark brows tightening into a confused line, Blake checked her calls from the night before, confirming that she had dialed Velvet for all of eleven seconds at two in the morning, apparently to brag about her photo-taking abilities. Panic pounded through Blake’s chest as she considered one other possibility, quickly scrolling back to her full list of texts.

The most recent one had an image attached, and she gulped past a massive knot in her throat at the name of the contact on the top: _Weiss Schnee._

“Fuck.” Blake gasped under her breath. “There’s no way that I–no, no, no–”

With one eye closed, she tapped on the message, praying for the first time in her life that she had sent her boss a bad meme in the middle of the night instead of–

“Oh, fuck me.” The picture displayed across her screen was one of the most explicit, and Blake bit her lip at the sight of her own nails drawing up the inside of one stocking-clad thigh, framing the soft shaft resting there as she sprawled on her back.

Peering up over the top of her monitors, Blake glanced around the entire office, looking for a pack of Ironwood’s officers storming in to drag her off the premises and right to the cops for sexually harassing her boss. Except there was no one there but the usual security standing by the elevator, and the guy seemed way more occupied playing a game on his phone than anything else.

“Maybe she didn’t see it.” Blake murmured, half explanation and half prayer. “Why don’t you have your read receipts on, Weiss?”

A buzz from the intercom on her desk made Blake jump in her seat, and she fumbled to tap the button and answer. “Yeah?”

Weiss’ crisp tones carried across the intercom and sent a cold stone of dread right into the pit of Blake’s stomach. “Ms. Belladonna, can I see you in my office?”

Part of her wanted to ask what for, but that seemed like jinxing any chance in hell that she had to get out of this without causing a scene. Blake cleared her throat, trying to get rid of some of the dryness in the back. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

It took everything she had to get to her feet, but Blake clutched her phone and walked across the office to Weiss’ door while trying to come up with a nice-sounding resignation letter. Something about pursuing other opportunities, maybe, ones where security wasn’t any issue at all. After a count of ten, she managed to turn the latch on the door and step inside.

Weiss’ office was massive, the pristine corner space giving up two walls for floor-to-ceiling windows that peered out onto the bustle of the city from thirty floors above. The CEO herself was behind a desk of polished steel and another sizeable pane of glass, somehow kept clean despite the stacks of work and dual monitors perched on top of it. Snow-white hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, leaving no distraction from the sharp blue eyes that leveled in Blake’s direction the moment she closed the door.

“Please, take a seat.” Weiss gestured to the leather chair on the opposite side of her desk; one, Blake noted, that was quite a bit lower to the ground than the one the other woman was currently sitting in.

Forcing a smile, Blake sat down, unsure of what to do with her hands. Part of her wanted to fidget, but she settled for lacing her fingers in her lap, legs crossed and back straight like she was waiting for an annual review instead of sexting her boss.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Weiss asked, reaching into a drawer on the side of her desk.

Blake bit her tongue, considering the most apologetic way to answer the question as Weiss pulled out a pair of highball glasses and a bottle of gin. She raised a brow, briefly lost in confusion, but had to admit that if she was going to have this talk with someone, she’d want a drink too.

“I…” Keeping her eyes on Weiss’ hands as she poured the alcohol, Blake managed to force out in a rush, “I accidentally sent you that picture, Ms. Schnee. It was supposed to go to a friend and I know that probably sounds terrible, but I was drunk and I just wanted to find out what she thought of the lingerie and–”

Pale fingers tensed around the gin bottle before going still. “Accidentally?”

“Of course.” Blake sputtered, the blush from before returning in full force. “I’d never proposition you like that, you’re my boss and it’s totally inappropriate…”

The words died on her lips when she finally managed to look Weiss in the face again. There wasn’t anger there, or even offense, but a devastating mix of humiliation and disappointment. Blake stared for a moment, wondering what Weiss could possibly be embarrassed about–

“Oh.” She looked at the gin and back again. “You…didn’t…mind…that?”

Weiss capped the gin bottle with such force that Blake was briefly convinced that it was going to break, but it was returned to the desk drawer without incident before Weiss took ahold of one glass and downed it all in one swallow. Flush with liquid courage, Weiss looked her directly in the eyes, refusing to hide despite the tint of pink on her own cheeks.

“I don’t date, Bella–Blake. No one in this city is my financial equal, and anyone that possesses anywhere near the power I have would much rather try to topple me off my throne than pursue any sort of…mutually beneficial relationship.” Letting out a huff, Weiss pushed the other glass of gin in Blake’s direction. “Take this before I finish that one too.”

Considering that every other attempted cure for her hangover had done no good, Blake couldn’t find a reason to refuse a hair-of-the-dog fix. She took the glass and a deep sip, steadying herself as Weiss kept talking.

“Despite knowing it’s inappropriate, I’ve flirted with you on several occasions during company parties, so I thought that this was your rather _direct_ way of accepting.”

“You what?” Blake interrupted, her voice coming out as more of a startled rasp. “Oh.”

Pushing past her headache to hunt through her memories of the last few parties, Blake recalled a few conversations with Weiss, but most of them involved quite a bit of wine, and she had been sure the other woman was trying to be friendly for the sake of company morale. If that was flirting, then the CEO was in desperate need of someone to help her unwind. And considering they had already gotten past the awkward part…

“It could be.” Keeping her voice soft, Blake set the half-empty glass back on the desk. “But I usually go on a date first before getting that hot and heavy.”

Weiss’ eyes lit up for a second before she composed her expression again, and Blake had to hold back a smile, taking that as a sign that the other woman didn’t want to come off as too excited. “I could take you anywhere you want, Blake. As long as we keep things private, for obvious reasons.”

Relief washed over her at the offer, anxiety replaced by a warm, fluttering sort of feeling. “Don’t worry. I’m asking for dinner, not a conflict of interest.”

Taking her phone from the desk, Weiss tapped the screen several times before putting it back down, looking quite pleased with herself. “We have reservations at Dornröschen after work. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.” Standing up from her seat, Blake smoothed out the wrinkles in her dark dress, hoping she looked composed enough to go back into the office. “But that probably means I should actually do some work, doesn’t it?”

“Of course.” Weiss smiled, and the expression was a lot warmer than Blake was used to. “But if you take off a little early to change into something nice, I won’t hold it against you.”

Blake reached the door before turning back to glance over her shoulder, doing everything she could not to grin. “Thanks, boss.”

It wasn’t until she was back at her desk and in control of her frantically beating heart again that Blake snagged her phone, unlocking the screen to send Velvet a text: _Velv, you are not going to believe what just happened._

–


End file.
